


When Plans Take an Unexpected Turn

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy has her life turned back to front in the matter of one day.  One bad unplanned thing leads to one very good unplanned thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Plans Take an Unexpected Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Smutty_Claus fic exchange at livejournal.

*~*~*

_September 2004_

"You're tossing me over for a _Greengrass_?" Pansy couldn't help the high pitched tone of her voice. She certainly couldn't help the crack at the end. "And not just any Greengrass, but the _younger_ Greengrass?!"

Her fingers tightened on the wineglass, her heart thumping wildly in her throat, a blind panic setting in. This was not how it was supposed to end for her! Not this way. Draco Malfoy was and had always been her endgame. He'd been her sweetheart since they were practically babies and every single one of her plans had always involved marrying him. Even when he'd pushed her away and refused to talk to her during sixth year, she'd always figured they would be married. She didn't have an alternate path.

"It's not tossing you over, Pansy," Draco said, running a hand through his hair. She hated when he did that, it pushed it all back and made his unfortunate receding hairline much more prominent. Balding at twenty-four, how sad. But she was too angry to reach out and fix it for him. He sighed and looked at the ceiling. "I've worked for a long time to try and repair the Malfoy name. And Astoria… she's…"

"She's not dirty, rotten Parkinson who asked to throw Saint Potter to the wolves," Pansy said with a growl to her voice that she didn't know she could pull off. "And, for your information, that is _exactly_ what tossing me over is!"

"It's not like that, Pansy. I'm not that monstrous." Draco sounded tired, like he'd tried to argue the same points over and over again with others. "I just can't marry you. Please understand. Mother and Father feel a clean slate is exactly what we all need and I don't think that can happen with you. That doesn't mean we can't still be friends. But you had to know that whatever we had in school wasn't going to last."

There was a brief cracking sound and then the glass in Pansy's hand shattered. Whether it was from her own hand clutching it too tight or from an uncontrolled burst of magic, she didn't know. But the glass shattered and claret ran down her wrist, mixed with blood from the cuts in her hand. Draco took a step forward and Pansy pushed him away, pointing to the door. Her hand burned and tears brimmed in her eyes. 

" _Whatever we had_?! How about the best thing that ever happened to you?! How about the one person who knew that you were going to get through all that awfulness alive? Get out of my house, Draco Malfoy. I don't want to even look at you right now." She stamped her foot, splashing the spilled claret onto the rug.

"Your hand. Let me fix it."

"Get OUT!" she shrieked. "I don't want your help, Draco Malfoy. Go marry your Greengrass and freshen up your name. I don't need you."

He took a step towards her once more, but when she pointed again to the door, he stopped and then left the house. Pansy stared at the spot on the floor where the claret from her glass had fallen. Tessie came out from under the dining room table and fretted as house elves are wont to do, cleaning the mess and picking up the glass. Pansy ignored Tessie's pleas to go into the kitchen and get her hand fixed. Instead she snatched up her pocketbook with her good hand and apparated to St Mungo's.

*~*~*

"Ow!" Pansy winced as another tiny shard of glass was picked out of her palm. "Where did you learn medicine, some backwards village in the Tibetan mountains? I pity your wife."

"If you'd rather me use the summoning charm, which will pull all the shards at once without any consideration as to which direction they pull out, I can." Terry Boot paused with the tweezers poised over her palm. "Or I can be as gentle as possible and do this slowly so it hurts less."

Pansy scowled. Oh how she disliked this man. In different circumstances she wouldn't even know his name, but Terry Boot was married to Tracey Davis and there was a long disgustingly romantic story behind all that which Pansy tried not to think about. Being that Tracey was Pansy's best girlfriend, it meant she spent an unfortunate amount of time learning the name of the man across from her. With two years of marriage and Tracey halfway through her first pregnancy, Pansy had given up on the idea that her friend would see reason at some point. And although she would never admit it upon pain of death, she didn't hate Terry Boot. He was good to Tracey and there could have been worse choices. 

Like Gryffindors. 

Currently, however, Pansy thought he was an awful person with no discernible bedside manner whatsoever.

And secretly she suspected that he was lying about the summoning charm just to get her back for some comment she may or may not have made about his hair the week before.

"No one ever believes me when I tell them Ravenclaws are vicious," Pansy muttered, hissing as he dug out another piece of glass.

A mediwitch came into the room with a bottle and Terry sat down the tweezers, reaching for it. He removed the top and held it out to her. "Here. This should dull the pain and you won't have to worry about my vicious manhandling of your person." He waited, giving her a pointed look until she'd drunk an enormous swallow then he nodded his head back toward the girl behind him. "Should I have her ask Tracey to come by and take you home? You won't be fit to apparate."

"No!" Pansy said sharply, shaking her head. "And you're not to tell her anything either. She won't stop prodding until I tell her the whole story and I don't want her to know about this just yet. It's so embarrassing. And I really do hate being embarrassed in front of her. Especially when she's so happy." She paused and looked at the bottle in her hand. "What's in this?"

"Numbing potion. Antibacterial boost. Bit of veritaserum." He squirted some of fluid over her hand and the blood washed into the little pan she was resting her wrist against. "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask your secrets. I never would. The veritaserum is there when we have patients who are tight-lipped about their injuries. Counter-spells are ineffective when we don't know where to start. And anyway, when have I ever told Tracey about a patient? I do have some standards."

Pansy snorted derisively and pressed her lips together for a long moment, letting him tend to her hand. After it was fully clean of glass, he coated it in essence of dittany and wrapped a clean, white bandage around her fingers. The dittany would have all the cuts healed up by morning and she shouldn't expect to have any scarring at all. Again he asked her for a name and without giving it much thought she blurted out the first one that came to mind. With a nod, Terry got up and vanished the bloody gauze and the other tools he'd been using, leaving her to her own messy thoughts.

*~*~

A long time ago, Pansy remarked that if you butted Parkinson Manor and the Malfoy Manor right up against one another, it still wouldn't be as big as Nott Estate. She'd always been a titch overwhelmed by the size of the house and once, when she was six, got turned around so badly that she was lost for a good two hours. The elves, of which the Nott family had five, (two indoor and three to tend the stables) finally found her tucked away on a window seat in the East wing salon, tear-stained and exhausted. She supposed at twenty-four she was a little less tear-stained but perhaps a little more exhausted.

"I shouldn't have asked you to do this," Pansy said, clutching at Theodore's arm as he guided her into the guest wing of the house. Her hand stung beneath the bandage that she'd been told not to remove until morning.

"Nonsense," Theodore answered. "I'm your friend. If you hadn't asked me, who would you have asked? Millicent?"

Pansy shrugged her shoulder and let him lead her to a little sofa. She plopped herself down, leaning back so that her head tilted. Draping her arm across her eyes, she tried to center her thoughts. She could hear Theodore moving around the suite. Pansy just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. Maybe when she woke everything in her life would make much more sense than it did now. Not so much that Draco would have come to his senses, because she was still rather wounded that he'd so casually brushed off the years they'd spent together.

"I'll summon one of the elves and have them make up some tea," he said after a few long moments of puttering around.

"You will do nothing of the sort, Theodore," Pansy said, lifting her head and dropping her arm. She frowned at him. "I will not sit here and nurse a teacup when I have it on very good authority that you and your family have an exquisite collection of aged scotch whiskeys in your cellar."

Theodore chuckled. "And you suppose that drowning your sorrows in alcohol is the best solution."

Pansy sniffed and straightened up, brushing her skirt and leaning down to remove her mules. "If I'm going to drown my sorrows, it had better be in alcohol because I'd rather not be sober enough to remember what sorrows I'm drowning."

He gave an infuriating little bow and a small smile before leaving the room. Pansy stood and walked over to the guest bedroom where she found it made up and ready to be used. Had she not known Theodore and his family all this time, she would have thought that he'd been expecting someone else and merely changed his plans for her. There were flowers in vases and the bedding was turned down nicely and even the armoire was well stocked as it always was in preparation for a guest. Theodore would have instructed the elves to move things of her size into the room before she got there.

True enough, when Pansy selected a nightgown and fluffy robe, both fit perfectly. She expected nothing less.

She changed, leaving the pencil skirt, blouse and the stockings that had been spattered with claret and her own blood, leaving everything in a pile by the bed. The elves would take care of everything. Perhaps not everything. Her wounded heart and pride could not be fixed with elf magic, but at least they would make sure her things were cleaned and pressed. The wounds, however, would hopefully be chased away by good company and good whiskey.

*~*~*

"And he tries, but he's not fooling anyone about the hair loss. It's getting thinner and thinner. I suspect he will look like old Professor Binns before he turns thirty." Pansy finished her glass and held it out, waiting for Theodore to splash another finger or two into it. "And I keep telling him that if he just keeps it combed forward, it might be a little less noticeable, but he insists on slicking it back like an idiot. Really? I'm just tired of looking at that enormous widows peak … "

She shifted on the sofa and rested her head against Theodore's shoulder, feeling fuzzy, but not completely off her gourd. The last few hours had been filled with talking and drinking. There had been her complaints of Draco, Theodore's endless string of women. _Honestly, you are worse than Blaise, my dear,_ she'd told him. Theodore had laughed and said something about having to pick up the slack once Blaise decided he was going to do something completely out of character and settle down with that girl from Beauxbatons. Married. Blaise. Who would have thought?

"Do you think I'm a bad person who doesn't deserve happiness?" Pansy asked after a long moment of staring at her drink. She took a small sip and then leaned forward, setting the tumbler on the glass coffee table before settling back against Theodore's shoulder.

"I would never think you're a bad person, Pansy," Theodore shifted and put his arm around her. "You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"Then why do you think Draco would just leave me for Daphne's sister?" She turned her head to the side and reached up, lightly touching Theodore's jaw with her fingertip. She could see his teeth clench up.

"Draco is a fool." Theodore finished his drink and then set aside the glass. "He's a fool for listening to his parents because we all know how well that turned out for him in school. And he's a fool for thinking that breaking your heart is his best alternative. Astoria won't make him happy. She might clean up the Malfoy name a bit; he'll still have to do most of the work himself. She'll probably give him a child. But beyond that, she's as milquetoast as one can get. He'll get bored and probably have a disastrously scandalous affair with a Hufflepuff." He smiled a little. "At least you have some manner of spirit."

"I'm not sure that's going to be good enough." 

Theodore sat there for a long moment then suddenly got to his feet and turned to face her, holding out his hand. Pansy scowled at it and leaned forward to pick up her glass. He slid out his foot and pushed the table back across the rug, keeping it out of reach. After a long moment, Pansy reluctantly took his proffered hand and he pulled her up, leading her to the door without talking. The hardwood was chilly beneath her bare feet and Pansy shivered as she walked.

"Where, may I ask, are we going?"

"To do something that will take your mind off of things. It's not too dark. I'll have the elves saddle up the horses. We can go for a night ride."

Pansy stopped in her tracks and let go of his hand. Briefly she regretted it because his hand had been anchoring her and now she felt a little unsteady. Shaking her head, she turned around and started walking back toward the sitting room. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Pansy, you like riding. It'll cheer you up."

She let out a dry laugh and turned around. The floors went a bit slanted until her brain caught up with the turn. Maybe she'd had a little more to drink than she'd originally thought. "Look at me, Theodore. I'm wearing a nightgown and robe. In what world am I at all prepared to go whipping around the property?" She spread her arms out, teetering just a little. "I'm slightly drunk, not nearly drunk enough, and it's too cold to be outside in something like this. It's too cold to be standing in this _hallway_ in something like this."

Watching, his face and waiting for an answer or response or something from him, Pansy drew in a deep breath. To her surprise his gaze shifted from her face and dropped slightly before meeting her eyes again. Pansy looked down as well and felt her face warm up. She had been very right about it being too cold and she could see her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of the nightgown. Quickly, she crossed her arms over herself and raised her chin.

"Can we just go back? It's obvious that I'm cold."

He stood there in silence for a beat and then raised his eyebrows. "If I said I had a better idea, picked you up and carried you to my room, would you protest?"

Pansy hesitated, blaming the alcohol for the hesitation. "I think I would." She looked at the floor briefly, tracing the joint between one plank of flooring and another wither toe. "I don't think I want to be one of your notches, Theodore."

Then there was the whole idea that perhaps Draco might come to his senses. It didn't seem likely that he would, but oh she wanted to hold out hope for it. She wanted him to wake up one morning, perhaps in a week, and come to her house. She had this image in her head. He would beg at her door. He, Draco Malfoy, would get down on both knees and plead with her to forgive him. What on earth would she do if he didn't? It seemed only logical that he would realise his mistake and come back to her in the end. And if he didn't, would he maybe ask her to be his mistress? Could she live with that?

"Pansy," Theodore said quietly, "do you ever wonder if maybe you've just been too caught up with the idea of being in love with Draco? And not really in love with him?"

She'd not considered that question. Not once had the idea even popped into her head. Of course she loved Draco. At least, she was really quite fond of him. She was fonder of him than she was of nearly everyone else, so that had to be what love was. They were polite to each other, he'd taken her to special gatherings. That's what people in relationships did. That's what her parents did. It had to be what love was. Not some silly notion of passion and reeling senses like silly authors wrote in silly books that she would never admit to anyone that she'd read once upon a time.

Before Pansy could respond, Theodore waved his hand a bit dismissively and it seemed as though he just didn't want her to answer that question. A smile reappeared on his face and he gestured back toward the guest sitting room. The silence, which had been thoughtful and calming before was filled with discomfort now. Oh how she'd wished he'd never asked his questions. His damn questions. Questions she didn't want to consider. Shouldn't have to consider.

He stopped at the doorway. Pansy, who hadn't stopped, suddenly felt his absence and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Are we not finishing drinks?"

"I think I shall retire for the evening, so I don't accidentally say something else that you don't want me to say."

"Theodore…" Pansy sighed.

"No. No, it was unkind of me to dismiss your relationship with Draco. I have had much more to drink tonight than I normally do and it loosened my tongue terribly." He stepped forward and touched her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Forgive me, darling. You didn't deserve my roguish comments."

Pansy stood there, rather stunned and utterly confused, watching him turn on his heel and walk away from her to his wing of the house. Part of her wanted to shout and slam the door. Part of her wanted to break down into tears. Part of her wanted to chase after him. Part of her just wanted to go to bed. She was pulled in too many directions and she wondered if perhaps it would come to a point where she would just tear apart at the seams.

She gave one final look to Theodore's receding form before making her way to bed.

*~*~*

Sleep, of course, was far from attainable and Pansy tossed and turned for what had to be forever before she sat up. The tiny clock with an internal _lumos_ charm on it, the Swiss really were masters when it came to clock making, only read a little after midnight. Beside the clock was a little bell and for a long moment, she stared at it. The internal debate on whether or not to ring it seemed to last forever but suddenly there was a chime and Pansy blinked, realising that without thinking she'd lifted the bell and shook it.

No sooner had the sound rung out, a tiny elf appeared. Pansy couldn't remember its name. She never really cared to learn the names of elves that belonged to other families. But it was dressed in a simple white tea towel and it wrung its hands nervously. Pansy rolled her eyes. Elves always expected the worst from her. It wasn't that they didn't have a reason to be nervous. She knew that elves talked and it was very likely her own had said something during her younger years.

Pansy stood, rubbing her bare arms. "I need to speak with Theodore," she said. No please. No thank you. Just an instruction.

"Would Miss like Pip to bring Master Theo to you?" asked the elf in a squeaky voice.

"No. Just take me to his room," she said.

The elf said nothing more, conjured a candle, and led Pansy through the house. In retrospect, once she'd gotten halfway, Pansy realised that it would have been a smarter move to bring the robe with her. She pressed her lips together and ignored the gooseflesh that had risen on her arms. After a number of turns and a lot of walking, Pansy was convinced that the house had gotten bigger since she was six, they finally arrived at a closed door. The elf squeaked something about wanting to go in and check on Master Theodore before announcing Pansy's arrival, but Pansy shooed the elf off. She had no concern about whether or not Theodore was asleep. But even if there was a concern, a dim glow bled out from under the edge of the door from a lamp inside the room.

She knocked.

"I'm cross," she said after letting out a deep breath. "I'm cross and I'm a little more sober and I don't like that you've turned me around and I really don't like that you just walked off with mere kiss to my forehead when you ought to have done something else. And I don't even know why I wanted you to do something else because I wasn't thinking I wanted you to carry me off anywhere and then you _didn't_ and for some reason I was disappointed."

He didn't say anything in response, which was entirely infuriating. Pansy could feel the scowl pull at her lips. He had the nerve to just stand there as if the house wasn't glacial wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms. Pansy wanted to stamp her foot and make him respond to her, to say something in reply instead of keeping quiet and making her fill in the blanks as though this was some sort of child's game on the back page of the Prophet.

"Well?" she said finally.

"What would you have me say, Pansy?" he asked. "I don't want you to feel like you're some sort of notch."

Pansy let out a frustrated noise and this time she did stamp her foot, burying her fingers into her hair. Then she stepped forward, put her hand to the back of his neck and tugged him down, her mouth pressing against his. It didn't last long. And as much as she didn't want to, Pansy couldn't help but compare the differences between Theodore and Draco. The shape of their mouths were so different and their heights and how she had to almost hang onto Theodore, stretching a bit because he was so tall. Draco had always cupped his hand to the small of her back. Theodore seemed to be refusing to touch her so the only points where they were connected were her hand and their lips. After a moment, she drew back.

"I didn't mean what I said." Pansy bit her lip slightly, not quite ready to let him straighten up.

"Which part?" he answered and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"About feeling like a notch. I think I'm more worried about you feeling like a rebound." She heard a slow intake of breath and closed her eyes as his head dropped down, lips touching the skin of her shoulder. She swallowed. "Would you feel like one?"

"What if you felt like Pansy and I just felt like Theodore and we didn't add any extra labels to it?"

In a fit of daring that she really hadn't known she possessed, Pansy raised her free hand and lightly dragged her fingertips across his bare chest. "Do you feel very much like Theodore?" she asked quietly.

"I think I do," he answered, winding the string strap of her nightgown around a fingertip. The fabric lifted slightly, shifting against her tingling skin enough that a shiver went up her back. He pressed a kiss against her neck. "Do you feel very much like Pansy?"

"Maybe partly like her," Pansy admitted, drawing a line with her finger down the center of his chest to the bumps of his abdominals. She drew in a deep breath and then closed her eyes. Questions were roiling just below the surface wanting to be asked. Was this too soon? Did she want this? Would she regret this in the morning? Was she feeling like herself at all? Did feeling like herself ever do her any good at all? Finally she opened her eyes. "Perhaps I would feel more like her if we were inside your room with the door closed."

"Only if you're sure," Theodore said, making no move backwards or forwards.

Pansy stood there for a moment and then huffed. "Oh for heaven's sake, stop dragging your heels," she said, flattening her hands against his chest and giving him a push backwards into the room.

Theodore stumbled back with a laugh but caught her hands and pulled her closer. This time he kissed her and he kissed her hard, his mouth crushing against hers in a way that made her heart pound and her head dizzy. It was not a polite kiss. It was not a proper kiss. It was teeth clacking and tongues touching and it was everything that she'd come to realise she'd been missing in a kiss. By god, she never knew that she wanted to be kissed like this until it was happening in that moment.

It occurred to her briefly that he'd managed to kick the door closed, but her attention on that little fact didn't last long because his hands were leaving trails of heat over her sides and hips, burning through the fabric as his fingers started bunching up the bottom of her nightgown. She pressed herself against him; every part of his body was warm and deliciously hard and part of her felt a thrill of satisfaction at the idea that she'd caused a particular part of him to be very insistent.

Pansy's uninjured hand slid into his hair and the other one, despite the slight ache, clutched at his upper arm. Her knees felt unstable.

"Bed," she whispered against his mouth, catching his bottom lip between her teeth.

"We're getting there," he answered back.

"Are we?" Pansy's hand slid from his hair until it hit his hips. She tugged at the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. "I still feel like I'm standing."

"Patience is a virtue." He kissed a line down her neck and scraped his teeth along the skin of her shoulder.

She felt his hand slip under the hem of her nightgown, fingers wandering over bared skin and leaving little fiery trails in their wake. Pansy sucked in a shuddering breath, her own fingers slipping down under his waistband, wanting to undress him before he undressed her. She'd never been so bold before and the more he held back, the more she wanted to take complete and utter control. This was not a familiar feeling to her.

Pansy was surprised by how much she liked it.

"I'm not patient," she said, tugging her hand from his pyjama bottoms and seeking out his wrist, curling her fingers around it. A smile curled at the corners of her mouth. "I suspect my virtue is a little tarnished as well."

Pressing his hand to her inner thigh, she guided it upwards and when his fingers slipped over her, a soft sound caught in the back of her throat. After that he needed no further urging as one finger pushed into her and his thumb pressed against her clit. Pansy let go of his wrist and this time she didn't waste any time, grasping the fabric and shoving it down until it fell around his ankles. Her concentration wavered when his thumb started to move back and forth, but she managed to keep some manner of control as her hand slid over the length of him, stroking in a steady motion.

The strangled noise that he made was exhilarating.

Suddenly he stopped, pulling his hand away and tugging the nightgown up over her head before picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. Pansy started to laugh because mere moments ago she'd said that she would possibly protest this but after having it done, after being carried to bed, she realised that she wanted nothing more. The laughter died as soon as it had started, his mouth pressing kisses down over her shoulder and the curve of her breast as he lay her down on the plush duvet. It had slipped her mind, only briefly, that he was well versed when it came to the bedroom.

He reminded her of this talent very quickly.

His hands slid expertly over her body, touching her and coaxing cries from her throat that she didn't know she could make. Pansy squirmed a little under him, arching her hips towards his wandering hands, wanting to touch her. When he didn't, she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him close, her lips brushing against his ear and telling him just what she wanted. Words like that were not something she normally spoke aloud and the groan that she heard from him told her that he liked what she said.

Shifting on the bed, Theodore parted her thighs and knelt between her legs. His hands slid up to her hips. One hand kept moving up toward her breast and then cupped against her cheek. Pansy turned her head and lightly bit the fleshy part of his hand near his thumb. He made a sound. Pansy pinched her eyes shut as his other hand moved. She felt his fingertip trace a pattern across the slick flesh, dipping down to press inside of her and then sliding up to her clit again. The touches didn't last long. Just enough to set her head to tossing and her body shivering.

"Theodore," she whispered, stretching her arm up and clutching at one of the pillows behind her head.

He didn't answer her. She wasn't sure if that was infuriating or not.

As he shifted on the bed, rocking his hip against her and creating the most delicious friction between his cock and her slick flesh, Pansy decided that it was very much _not_ infuriating. She didn't need words.

Moving her legs, she hooked her heel against the back of his thigh and pushed her hips up against him. Theodore seemed to lift himself up and in moments that felt like they were stretching into forever, he pushed himself slowly into her. His fingers had felt amazing, but this made amazing seem like something entirely ordinary. Pansy sucked in a breath and opened her eyes to look up at him. Something seemed to press all the breath out of her lungs as she met his eyes and it was almost too much, she had to look away.

Theodore touched her chin and turned her face back towards his, leaning in to kiss her gently. "Worried?"

She went to answer, but he drew himself back and then pushed forward and all that came out of her mouth was a soft groan. Clutching at him, Pansy tightened her legs around his hips. "One off with one of my best friends? Why would I be worried?"

Theodore smiled and leaned closer until his cheek touched hers. The roughness of his jaw felt electric and seemed charge her skin. She felt that if she touched anything, blue arcs would jump from her fingertips. His lips moved against her and it took her a moment to realise he was speaking. But the words were so soft and the rolling thrusts were entirely distracting. Pansy wanted to respond but she didn't know to what she was responding. He pressed a kiss to her neck and didn't seem to wait for an answer.

They moved together. Fast and then slow. He grabbed her hands at some point and pinned them above her head, dipping his head down to catch a nipple with his teeth and giving it a gentle bite. Pansy made sounds that she knew she had never made before and with every cry that tumbled from her lips, he answered with a sound of his own. Her blood was running hot, close to boiling she was certain, and she was certain that at some point she would just burst into flames. Nothing to be left behind but a pile of ash.

And just when she thought it couldn't get any better, he wrapped his arms around her and turned them.

Suddenly she was on top, pushing hard against him and meeting every upward thrust of his hips with a happy sigh. His hands were everywhere now. Sliding over her skin and cupping her breasts. She couldn't help herself, her own hand drifted down to where their bodies joined, fingers seeking out her clit. And it surprised her that Theodore didn't stop to take over. Draco had always been so particular about his participation.

Pansy looked down at him, hair falling in her face as she flicked her own fingers back and forth. He wasn't looking at her face though. His focus was on what she was doing to herself and the look on his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before. It was the look on his face that tipped the scales and sent her reeling. Somewhere she was sure she was calling out for someone's god or perhaps all of the gods. She wasn't sure. She didn't actually care. Words were secondary when compared to the waves of sensation that accompanied the shudders

His hips snapped up against hers. Maybe once. Maybe twice. She was so beyond concentration, so entirely focused on what her own orgasm felt like, that it took her a few moments to realise that he'd come as well.

Curling over, Pansy rested her forehead against the middle of his chest before she shifted and settled against him. She could feel his heart thumping against his ribs and her body rose and fell slightly with each breath he took. A languid sort of feeling seemed to be taking over and Pansy felt like cat-stretching right there. She smiled and then looked up at him. There was a fine sheen of perspiration across his brow and his brown hair was rather attractively mussed up. Pansy reached up and brushed it back with her fingertips.

"What did you say to me?" A shiver went through her body as his fingers drew up her back from her tailbone to the spot between her shoulder blades. She rested her chin against his shoulder. "Earlier. You said something. I was a bit distracted."

"A bit?"

Pansy smiled and pressed a kiss to the spot where her chin had been resting. "Just a little."

Theodore looked up at the ceiling for a long moment before turning his head, his nose almost bumping against hers. "If I were to say something along the lines of not wanting this to remain some sort of one off… or a chance occurrence… would you be amenable to that?"

Pansy looked at him for a long moment before she closed her eyes. Could she be the kind of person who just leapt into another relationship moments after having the first one crumble down around her? "I'm a little new to this 'devil may care' sort of life." She gave him a smile before opening her eyes. "Everything was so planned out before. This is… was very unplanned."

He drew in a deep breath but she put her fingertips to his mouth to keep him from talking.

"Would you be amenable to the unplanned?" she asked.

Theodore chuckled and held her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I can do unplanned." He rolled her onto her back and kissed her lips. "I like unplanned." He kissed her neck. "I vote we surprise each other."

Pansy wrapped her arms around him and sighed. "I could be very agreeable to that."

And she was. Very agreeable.


End file.
